Brown Eyes
by nursefranknfurter
Summary: I've been talked into writing something longer than a one shot. Keith befriends a little girl in a hospital, then tries to help her after he finds out why she's there. Please read and review and be patient for the rest. Tell me what you really think!


_** Brown Eyes**_

___Chapter One_

"You kids go on home, I'll be fine."

Shirley said, sitting up in a bed at San Pueblo Hospital. She'd had a severe migraine a few hours ago, and they kept reoccurring since she got to the hospital, so the doctors thought it was a good idea for her to stay the night and have some tests done in the morning.

It was already past nine, close to the three youngest Partridge's bedtime.

"Goodnight, mom," the three youngest said, kissing their mom as they left with Reuben.

"Get some rest, mom," Laurie told her mother as she stopped at the door before she left.

"Yes, dear," Shirley obeyed.

Keith sat on a chair next to her bed, watching his siblings leave.

"Keith, go home. I'm okay."

Keith was not only the most protective, being the oldest male in the family now, but also the most bullheaded when he had his mind set on something.

"It just doesn't feel right to me, mom. I want to stay here."

Keith was the one who drove his mother to the hospital while Reuben followed in the bus with the little ones. He'd seen the pain his mother was in and he was determined that the next time she got one of those awful headaches, he'd be there to hold her hand.

"It's not going to do you any good to worry about me," his mother said, trying to be persuasive. "The doctors here know what they're doing. Besides, I'll probably be out like a light in a few-ah," Shirley yawned, "a few minutes."

Her eyes fluttered, trying to fight her sleepiness while trying to be as firm, as she could be in her condition, with her eldest child.

"Mom, I know right after I leave you're going to get one of those awful headaches, and I'm not going to be able to sleep anyway, so I might as well stay right here."

Keith gave her those big puppy dog eyes of his, filled with worry.

"At least until you fall asleep," he said, looking at the clock, "then I'll go, okay?"

He turned back his mother, and smiled. She had already fallen asleep, which meant that she was out of pain, at least temporarily.

He walked to his mother and kissed her on the head.

"Goodnight, Mom."

He walked out of her room and down the hall, trying to remember where he had parked, when he heard someone ask,

"Excuse me, sir, are you Keith Partridge?"

Keith closed his eyes in aggravation.

_Just what I need right now: a zealous fan._

Then he opened his eyes, not noticing before that the voice he had heard was not that of a teenage girl or woman, but a very small voice, much like Tracy's.

He turned to where the source of this voice was, and found a small girl with curly brown hair and big, brown eyes lying down in a hospital bed in a room on the right side of the hall. She had an IV hooked up to her arm, and a sling on the other.

"Yes, that's me," he said, walking towards her room.

"I love your songs," the little girl told him, a huge smile spreading across her face.

"Why thank you," Keith said, bowing as if to a queen.

The little girl laughed, and Keith chuckeled back as he stood up.

"You're funny," she said, still beaming with joy.

"Thanks again," Keith replied. "What's your name?" he asked, happy that he had brought a smile onto a little girl's face who lay in a hospital bed.

"My name's Francis," she replied. "And your name is Keith Partridge."

"That's right," Keith said, smiling, "At your service," he said, bowing again.

This time the little girl laughed louder than before, and started to cough. She moved the arm with the IV to cover her mouth, but struggled.

Keith instinctively walked toward her, as he would if one of his siblings was having a coughing fit.

"You okay?" he asked, surprised at how much concern filled his voice.

"Uh-huh," the girl said, slowly easing out of her fit.

Keith sat down on the chair behind him.

"How old are you, Francis?" he asked, looking into the little girl's beautiful brown eyes.

"I'm six," she replied proudly.

"That's what I thought," Keith said, "because my little sister Tracy's six too."

"Oh yeah, I've seen all your brother and sisters and mom on posters and stuff," Francis said as if she was talking to the president about reading one of his speeches.

"Are you sick, Mr. Partridge?" she asked, scanning him for any bumps or bruises.

Keith almost laughed at the sound of "Mr." being used to describe him.

"No, my mom doesn't feel good," he said, "and you don't have to call me Mr. Partridge. Just call me Keith."

"Okay, Keith," Francis said, smiling again.

"Is your mom okay?" the little girl asked, her eyes filling with concern.

"Yeah, she just had a headache."

Keith was so caught up in making her happy that he hadn't even wondered why a little girl of six would be spending the night in a hospital.

"Are you sick, Francis?" he asked, looking at her IV. "Is that why you're coughing?"

No, I just have allergies. My mom left me here," she told Keith, the smile disappearing from her freckled face.

Keith's forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"What do you mean?" he asked, trying to think of any possible reason why a mother would leave her little girl in a hospital if she wasn't sick.

"I don't know if I can tell you," Francis said, thinking hard. "I might get in trouble."

Keith still didn't understand, but didn't see any reason to force her into telling him something she didn't want to.

"Oh…well, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble," he said. "Shouldn't you be going to sleep pretty soon? It's almost ten o' clock," Keith said, surprised himself at how long he'd been there.

"I can't," she pitifully replied, folding her arms and looking down at the hospital blanket that covered her up.

"Why can't you sleep?" Keith inquired.

"I always have my rabbit with me when I sleep," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "Carrots helps me sleep, but my mom didn't leave him here with me," she said as she started to cry.

"Hey, it's okay." Keith stood up and walked over to her, kneeling at her bedside. She reminded him so much of Tracy, and how much he hated to see Tracy cry.

An idea struck him.

"Hey, don't cry, I have an idea. Will you wait a few minutes?"

Francis sniffled and wiped her nose.

"Okay," she whispered.

Keith wandered through the hospital until he found the gift shop, where flowers and stuffed animals decorated the glass windows. A man walked out the front door, locking it. That's when Keith noticed the sign that read "Closed."

"Excuse me, sir," he said, walking up to the man. "I need to get something in that gift shop. Would you mind opening it back up just for a few minutes?"

"Sorry kid," the man said, his back turned to Keith, "it's closed."

"Please, sir," Keith pleaded, "it's sort of an emergency."

The man turned around, and a smile formed on his face.

"Hey, you're that Partridge kid, aren't you?"

The aggravation returned.

"Yes," he reluctantly replied.

"I'll make a deal with you."

Keith signed the man's daughter's picture and got what he wanted: a small, fluffy stuffed rabbit. It was a bit overpriced, but he didn't care at this point.

He ran back to the Francis' room, and held out the rabbit.

"It looks just like Carrots!" she exclaimed with joy, readily taking the ball of fur into her arms, hugging it gratefully.

"Thank you, Keith," she said, yawning and closing her eyes.

Keith patted her adorable, brown locks before he walked out her door.

"Your welcome, Francis."


End file.
